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Updated: June 2, 2025
Puffington's hounds, read he again, wondering who had done it: Bardolph, the innkeeper; Allsop, the cabinet-maker; Tuggins, the doctor, were all out; so was Weatherhog, the butcher. Which of them could it be? Grimes, the editor, wasn't there; indeed, he couldn't ride, and the country was not adapted for a gig. He then began to read it, and the further he got the more he was disgusted.
I began to read, but I scarcely knew what I was reading, my fingers tightening over Biddy's little knee.... Presently Miss Allsop, the governess, came in. She had been sent by Maude. There was wistfulness in Biddy's voice as I kissed her good night. "Father, if you would only read oftener!" she said, "I like it when you read better than anyone else.".... Maude and I were alone that night.
Mr. Allsop conceived a warm affection for the young scholar. He had a grand-niece staying with him on a visit, who less openly, but not less warmly, shared that affection; and with her George Morley fell shyly and timorously in love. With that living he would be rich enough to marry; without it, no.
She had had talking dolls before, and dolls that closed their eyes; she recognized this one, indeed, as a sort of super-doll, but her little mind was modern, too, and set no limits on what might be accomplished. She patted it, but was more impressed by the raptures of Miss Allsop, who had come in and was admiring it with some extravagance.
Allsop, quoted in the last chapter, it is doubtful whether Coleridge's "great work" made much additional progress during the last dozen years of his life. The weekly meeting with Mr. Green seems, according to the latter's biographer, to have been resumed. Mr.
After dinner, when at last all of them were in bed, we dressed the tree; it might better be said that Maude and Miss Allsop dressed it, while I gave a perfunctory aid.
I began to read, but I scarcely knew what I was reading, my fingers tightening over Biddy's little knee.... Presently Miss Allsop, the governess, came in. She had been sent by Maude. There was wistfulness in Biddy's voice as I kissed her good night. "Father, if you would only read oftener!" she said, "I like it when you read better than anyone else.".... Maude and I were alone that night.
Allsop tells us that Lamb once said of Coleridge: "He sets his mark upon whatever he reads; it is henceforth sacred. His spirit seems to have breathed upon it; and, if not for its author, yet for his sake, we admire it." John Buncle.
"It's father!" she said. Biddy stopped in the midst of a pirouette. At the age of seven she was still shy with me, and retreated towards Maude. "Aren't we going to have a tree, father?" demanded Moreton, aggressively. "Mother won't tell us neither will Miss Allsop." Miss Allsop was their governess. "Why do you want a tree?" I asked. "Oh, for Biddy," he said.
I began to read, but I scarcely knew what I was reading, my fingers tightening over Biddy's little knee.... Presently Miss Allsop, the governess, came in. She had been sent by Maude. There was wistfulness in Biddy's voice as I kissed her good night. "Father, if you would only read oftener!" she said, "I like it when you read better than anyone else.".... Maude and I were alone that night.
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